White Flag
by TheCherryRed
Summary: College student Bella Swan has never met anyone as passionate and exciting as Edward Cullen. Can passion and excitement be enough? What do you do when your soulmate is the last person on earth you should share your life with?


Disclaimer: First and foremost, no one sparkles in this fic. Sorry. Secondly, and more importantly, all thanks and praise goes to Stephanie Meyer who created these fabulous characters (whom I don't own) so that we could continue to drool over them in perpetuity. Amen.

A/N So this is the first thing I've ever written. Well, ok. This is the first thing I've ever FINISHED and then actually followed through with. Be gentle.

I want to thank my betas/besties ShimmerJade (without whom I would be in verb tense agreement hell) and Purple_Whipped (*smacks your cute ass*).

I also want to thank my pre-reader/mentor/the person I want to be when I grow up, E's My Brand of Heroin. You are my life now. Yes. I took it THERE.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~2011~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five days. It's been five days that I've been sitting here with him in this stifling room. I still haven't touched him.

Looking at him now, it's hard to believe that this is the same man that sent my stomach hurtling to my feet-like taking the first dip on a roller coaster- when I watched him swagger into that audition so many years ago. God, he was beautiful. Now...prematurely gray stubble covering ashen skin. Wasted limbs. It's disturbing how small he looks against stark white hospital sheets. For a moment, I allow myself to close my eyes and try to get back there. It isn't difficult. I see the sharp angle of his jaw. The gorgeous imperfection of his nose. I feel the slight roughness of his skin under my finger tips as I stroke his face. I bury my nose into the aroma of sweat and cigarette smoke in his hair. All greedily breathlessly committed to memory during far too few stolen moments together. Jesus, am I crying again? I realize that the face I've been touching is my own. I drop my hands from my wet cheek. I need to get myself together before he wakes up again because the last time he woke up to a crying Bella he had a melt down to rival that of any two-year-old.

His leg is suddenly exposed, dangling over the hospital bed. I hesitate for moment, debating whether to move it closer to his body or simply cover it up. I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of. Would it happen, or wouldn't it? I decide against taking the chance, lean over in my chair, and carefully pull the scratchy waffle patterned blanket over his dessicated foot.

"Mrs. Black? Mrs. Black...honey..."

My reverie is broken and I look up into the warm chocolate eyes of Nurse Peggy. She is so much kinder than the morning shift nurse. I feel like I can take a breath around her. "I'm sorry, Peg. I was on another planet."

"That's OK, Baby. But we need to clean up Sweetie Pie. You know he don't like you bein' around for that."

"Yeah, well he don't like you calling him Sweetie Pie, either." I smile.

She laughs. "True enough."

I stand up and stretch. She watches me with sweet maternal concern. "Baby, if any woman needed a good glass of wine and a hot bubble bath, it's you."

"You know what, Peggy? You might just win that battle tonight. I am just...really...fried." I've been sinking quite a bit of money into a hotel room I haven't seen the inside of except for the ten minute showers and hastily thrown on sweatpants.

She wraps me up in a bear hug and I sink into her, fighting back the sobs that threaten to make their 3,000th appearance of the day. Softly, Peggy whispers, "I know ain't nothin' promised, but I got a good feelin' he'll still be here tomorrow. It's not time for goodbyes just yet."

I nod furiously. "Can I have a few seconds with him before I go?"

"Sure. I'll be back in a few. I'm glad you're finally takin' care of yourself a bit. I promise we'll be real good to him until you get back."

"I know you will, Peg."

She gives me one last squeeze and I watch her portly frame retreat through the door.

Sighing, I turn to face his sleeping form. I sit back down in my chair, scooting it as close as I can to the bed. I kiss my fingers and hold them over his forehead. Leaning in, I whisper, "I have to go get some sleep tonight, but I'll be back in the morning. They'll take good care of you while I'm gone." He stirs a bit, and groans. I wait. He doesn't wake up. I take one more shaky breath and stand up, resolved to get my life back for just one night. "Ok, then. I'll see you in the morning. I love you, Edward."


End file.
